


The Sniffles Job

by crossroadswrite



Series: The Rainy Mood Job [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, Criminal Cora Hale, Criminal Laura Hale, Criminal Lydia Martin, Criminal Peter Hale, Criminal Stiles Stilinski, Criminal Talia Hale, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Sick Derek Hale, Sick Stiles Stilinski, Week 16, everyone is a criminal bless, nursing back to health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’re doin’ here?”</p><p>Stiles grins, “I came to play nurse. Do what normal people do. Also, return your sister’s car.”</p><p>“She let you borrow her Camaro?” Derek asks dubiously. Once Derek leaned against it and Laura tackled him to the floor and gave him a noogie. He was taller than her at the time.</p><p>“Nah, Isaac stole it because it was shiny and looked fun. In his defense it <em>was</em> fun.”</p><p>“Your friend stole my sister’s car?”</p><p>(Or: the one where Stiles is still a criminal and apparently so is most of Derek's family, even if Derek himself is not. What even is his life.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sniffles Job

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the prompt:  
> ➥walked in the rain, got sick and now has to be nursed back to health au*

Derek is sick. _Again._ And this time it’s not even his fault. No, this time it’s all _Stiles’_ fault because he’s actually a ridiculous person and decided he wanted to kiss in the rain like their lives are a Lifetime movie.

(“Like in the movies, Derek. Come on it’ll be romantic.”

“We’ll catch a cold.”

“We can sacrifice a couple of days being sick for love.”

“…Fine.”)

Yeah, Derek is a complete sucker for Stiles and his big stupid Bambi eyes. It’s getting to be a little bit of a problem.

He turns with a low groan, trying to get comfortable in his bed and shift the blankets in a way so he’s neither too cold or too hot.

Has he mention he completely _loathes_ being sick, because he thinks that’s a necessary thing to reiterate.

He sniffles disgustingly and blindly reaches for the tissues, grabbing a handful and blowing his nose just as someone knocks on the door.

“G’away, Laura.”

Derek doesn’t really expect for Laura to go away. If you’re a Hale you’re hard headed and stubborn and you’ll do what’s best for your family, whether they want it or not.

He pulls the covers over his head when the door creaks open, hoping that Laura won’t think about jumping on him. He really hopes it’s not Cora, because Cora will just call him a loser and tell him to get over it while pretending she’s not fluffing his pillow. After jumping on him.

His sisters have a thing for inflicting pain in times of weakness.

“Not Laura,” a familiar voice calls out, “Can I come in?”

Derek peeks over his blankets suspiciously, “Stiles?”

Stiles grins at him and bounds into the room like he owns the place, pulling a chair and waving a container half full of what looks like chicken noodle soup. _Maybe_. Derek’s not too sure that he can rely on his vision.

“What’re doin’ here?”

Stiles grins, “I came to play nurse. Do what normal people do. Also, return your sister’s car.”

“She let you borrow her Camaro?” Derek asks dubiously. Once Derek leaned against it and Laura tackled him to the floor and gave him a noogie. He was taller than her at the time.

“Nah, Isaac stole it because it was shiny and looked fun. In his defense it _was_ fun.”

“Your friend stole my sister’s car?”

“Yup,” Stiles says cheerily, “Sorry about that.”

Derek lets his head drop back onto his pillow because of course, of course the guy he’s dating – possibly, hopefully – has friends that steal cars to go on joy rides.

“Aw, don’t make that face. He even tuned it for her and everything.”

“You’re right, that makes grand theft auto so much more acceptable.”

Stiles laughs, like Derek and his respect for the law are hilarious.

“Here, come on sit up, I brought you chicken noodle soup so you can get better.”

Derek maturely pulls the blankets over his face. He hopes Stiles will leave him alone and not force feed him that thing.

He should’ve known better. Laura and Cora took to Stiles too easily for him to leave Derek alone. At least his approach is much better than theirs.

Stiles even has the care to take his shoes off before he jumps on the bed and manhandles Derek into a sitting position, propping him up against the headboard and straddling him so he’s in a better position to feed him the stupid chicken noodle soup while making air plane noises.

“Stiles I’m not fi- mphm.”

Stiles cuts him off by shoving a spoonful of soup into Derek’s mouth.

“Shh, sick people don’t have opinions.”

“Who told you that?”

“My aunt,” he says proudly.

“Your aunt?”

“My borrowed aunt. Isaac’s mom. She’s a legend in the thief world. A little bad with people but a legend nonetheless.”

“Are the parents of every you know criminals?”

Stiles hovers another spoonful over his mouth, opening his own like Derek will feel compelled to mimic the motion and eat it.

He does. It’s terrible.

Stiles grins proudly.

“Let’s see. My mom used to be a con-artist, Isaac’s mom used to be a thief, Lydia’s mom was a hacker, Ally’s dad was a, um, let’s say he convinced people to keep quiet using his fists and guns and my dad used to be an insurance investigator before he was fired, fell in love with Mom and turned that band of misfits into a team. So yeah, pretty much.”

“What about Danny?”

“Oh, Isaac’s mom and Lydia’s mom decided that instead of in vitro they wanted to adopt their third kid. So here we are.”

Stiles makes him swallow another spoonful and it’s weirdly good. Derek’s taste buds are always a little offline when he’s sick so he can’t be blamed for only now noticing. Also he has a gorgeous boy sitting on him. No one can fault him, _no one_.

Derek coughs grossly and Stiles rubs his back like he’s been taking care of Derek for years.

It feels nice. He certainly hopes Stiles will stay and put up with him forever, which is a stupid thing to wish for.

“So what, you’re continuing their legacy?”

Stiles shrugs, shoves the spoon in his mouth again.

“A little. Each of us had a little bit of a rebellious phase where we just did whatever we wanted because we wanted to see how far we could push until someone caught us. Lydia was the one who got us all together and functioning.”

“Conning rich men in Europe?”

Stiles nods, “Those were fun times, you should see the beautiful collection of art pieces I have back at home. Mom likes to fawn over them.”

“You’re such an outlaw,” Derek shakes his head.

Stiles grabs his chin and makes train noises while he shoves the spoon in his mouth.

“You know I can feed myself,” Derek points out after swallowing.

“You know I can tell you’re liking this.”

Derek feels the tips of his ears go red. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“Maybe,” Stiles grins, shoving another spoonful of deliciously good soup in his mouth.

Derek really hopes there’s not anything bad in it. Or some sort of illegal spice. He wouldn’t put it past Stiles.

He’s not worried that there’s something that would be _bad_ for him in it. He’s known Stiles for such a little amount of time and he knows he wouldn’t hurt him. For whatever reason Stiles seems to _like_ him and isn’t that an odd thing.

He should be more worried about the fact that it doesn’t bother him even half as much as it should that Stiles would smuggle something illegal into his room.

Stiles insists on laying down next to him to “help you sleep better, Derek. Come on I know you can’t pass without me,” even after Derek tells him he’ll get disgustingly sick.

Stiles swears he won’t and cuddles Derek like the end of the world is nigh.

The cuddling is nice, even if Stiles gets sick just when Derek gets better. He doesn’t really mind returning the favour and nursing him back to health though.

Or he would, if a terrifying red head didn’t just burst into his room armed with a syringe and demanding for Stiles to stop being a whiny baby.

“Uh, who are you? How did you even get here?”

The redhead turns to him and seems to stop for a moment, assessing him. She lets her eyes do the once over before turning to where Stiles is sniffling, “I see why you wanted to date him. He’s cute.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says, voice clogged up.

“I still don’t know who you are,” Derek points out.

“Lydia Martin. I’ve heard a lot of things about you and several parts of your anatomy. Too much I’d say.”

Derek is pretty sure he goes red all over.

“Why do you have a syringe?”

Lydia grabs Stiles arm and looks for the vein expertly.

“Is that even legal?” Derek presses on.

Lydia freezes and turns to him with a slow smile, “Oh, you’re just too precious,” she coos.

Stiles makes a vague sound in concordance.

She shoves the needle into Stiles and presses the plunger.

Stiles makes a little hurt sound that has Derek stepping forward.

“Calm down, Bucko. It’s the cure for the common cold… hopefully.”

“Hopefully?”

Lydia waves a hand dismissively, “I have a scientist friend who’s been working on it for a while. They’re more than happy to let Stiles be their first human test subject.”

“What?” Derek steps forward again, ready to pick her up and bodily remove her from his house.

“It’s fine. He should be completely cured in a couple of hours and ready to go.”

“Noooo,” Stiles whines, “This is booooyfriend time. Lydia you promised I could have boyfriend time. Allison gets to have boyfriend time,” he pouts.

“Allison is not dating my mom’s sworn arch-nemesis.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Stiles complains.

“Wait, what?” Derek says loudly, because he can’t have heard that right. There is no way his mother is in any way related with a criminal. Certainly not enough that she’s someone’s _arch-nemesis_.

“Lydia! Look what you did. Laura is going to get _so mad_ ,” Stiles hisses.

“What?” Derek repeats, alarmed and a little louder to see if maybe this time someone will answer his goddamn question.

“He doesn’t know about his family,” Lydia’s tone his as flat as Derek’s tires after Jennifer Blake happened, going perfectly with her raised, unimpressed eyebrow, “How can he not know about his family.”

Stiles reaches for a tissue and blows his nose noisily, “They don’t want him to. And it’s not like it’s his _entire_ family.”

“What’s wrong with my family?”

“There’s nothing wrong with your family,” Stiles soothes.

Lydia gives him a calculating look, “I’m going to tell him.”

“Don’t you dare,” Stiles warns.

“Yes, please. Dare,” Derek demands, eyes focusing on Lydia.

Lydia gets the superior smile of the ones that know more than you and have wonderful things planned for the information you don’t have.

“You know what I’m going to let Laura tell him.”

“You’re terrible,” Stiles sniffles.

Lydia responds by focusing her smile on him.

“Just terrible,” Stiles reiterates.

And that’s how Derek ends up having a sit down with his immediate family as they slowly explain to him their illegal activities.

Seriously, how is this even his life? Is this why the universe hates him?

Stiles is half asleep on Derek, completely oblivious to what would be appropriate to do right now, which is certainly not snuffling into his arm and mumbling about Monet.

“So, let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, “Mom used to be a hacker. A known one at that, who nearly got arrested for stealing State secrets. Uncle Peter is an underground lawyer for criminals who can pay and Laura runs a chain of smuggling art and other stolen goods. What about Dad?”

Dad raises his hands, “Don’t look at me, I’m just a graphic designer.”

“Cora?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Cora is in her rebel phase,” Mom starts, “she’s cage fighting.”

That… explains a lot actually.

“And how come I never heard of this?”

“You got my genes, son,” Dad offers, calmly reaching for the tea he sensibly had set on the coffee table earlier, like this conversation was going to be about Crockett strategies and not a good portion of Derek’s family being _criminals_.

Derek drops his forehead on his hands, a little lost in what to do _now_. Stiles sleepily pats his thigh and Derek can’t decide if he’s half asleep or half awake, he just knows that he’s not fully conscious.

“Just- why.”

“Derek, hon. Why did you think we were so rich?”

“I don’t know,” he flounders, “heritance?”

Mom gives him a sympathetic smile and reaches for her tea, “Well, I did tell you that I made my living by myself. It’s not my fault if you weren’t paying attention.”

Derek gives up on all reason and reaches for his own tea, sipping it carefully.

“This is ridiculous,” he tells them because he feels like they should know that, “my life is ridiculous.”

Laura snorts, “This is certainly not how I envisioned you introducing Stiles to Mom and Dad but since we already know each other anyway, it’ll save us the trouble of pretending we don’t.”

“You would’ve lied to me?”

He’s not offended by it – okay maybe he is, he’ll need some time to resent them he thinks – and he’s certainly not overly surprise, this is not going to radically change his entire life which should be a testament to how much bullshit Derek puts up with on a daily basis.

“F’r y’r own good,” Stiles mumbles, letting himself get heavy next to Derek.

Derek rolls his eyes down at him, “Sure it is.”

“So,” his father starts slowly, breaking the somewhat tense silence that had settled over his family as they waited for Derek to explode.

He’s not _Cora_ he’s not going to explode and set a trashcan on fire.

“Is your boyfriend staying for dinner?”

Stiles mumbles something that might be a yes, but Derek is pretty sure he’s asleep by now.

Derek sighs dramatically. “Yes, he’ll stay.”

His Dad claps his hands on his thighs, “Wonderful, I’ll let you try to stop your sisters from drawing on your boyfriend’s face while I get dinner ready.”

Derek turns a glare at both his sisters that somehow have already a pen at hand. He’s really not sure how he didn’t figure out they were criminals sooner.

He glances down at where Stiles has his face smushed against his chest, mouth dropped open in his sleep and frowns a little, completely upset that such a vision is causing something warm and fuzzy to settle on the pit of his stomach and make a home there.

It’s a terrible feeling.

“Pass me a pen,” he demands and Laura starts cackling even as she throws hers at his head.

Derek uncaps it and looks at Stiles critically, deciding on what to draw and settling for an exaggerated moustache and a unibrow. He likes to keep it classy.

What? He _is_ a Hale after all and apparently such behavior is in his genes.

(Stiles isn’t even mad when he goes to the bathroom to wash up before dinner and sees the work of art they made of his face. He only laughs for about ten minutes and talks with a ridiculous French accent through dinner the rest of the night pretending to twirl his fake moustache.

His mom is the first to tell Derek that he should keep this one at the end of the night. Derek’s inclined to agree.)

**Author's Note:**

> exposition exposition exposition, that's all this one is about


End file.
